Star Crossed Lovers Torn Apart
by OverTheLuna
Summary: After the terrible events of the Battle of Hogwarts, the Malfoy family was torn apart when Lucius served his wife with divorce papers and started a new life with a woman named Mina Yaxley. But as Lucius quickly becomes engaged and Narcissa is left heartbroken, is all truly what it seems?
1. The Great Hall

Star Crossed Lovers Torn Apart

Summary: After the terrible events of the Battle of Hogwarts, the Malfoy family was torn apart when Lucius served his wife with divorce papers and started a new life with a woman named Mina Yaxley. But as Lucius quickly becomes engaged and Narcissa is left heartbroken, is all truly what it seems?

Disclaimer: It all belongs to JK Rowling, as I'm sure you know.

Chapter One

It was all over. After a great deal of time, and even more pain, the Second Wizarding War had finally ended, leaving its participants at a bit of a loss as to what to do; they had become so accustomed to hiding and fear that they no longer knew what else there was in the world.

For none was that truer than the Malfoy family, sat together on the end of one of the long wooden tables of the Great Hall. They had lived the last two years of their life under the constant shadow of the Dark Lord's rise to power, each waking moment filled with terror that one of them might do wrong and all might suffer. Even now, Narcissa huddled close to Draco, half-shielding him from the judgemental glares of those who had fought on the winning side all along.

Lucius sat a little further away, his vacant stare fixed on the window of the Great Hall, as if he wished he could take a running jump right through them. After all, of the few commendable actions his family had taken during the war, none of them had come from him. His son had concealed Harry Potter's identity at Malfoy Manor, Narcissa had saved the boy from certain death. What had he done, besides watch it all collapse around him? What right did he have to sit among the victors when he did not lift a finger to help them win?

"Lucius?" The soft questioning voice was all too familiar, and Lucius was quick to wave it away. He did not need to seem any more pitiful than he already did. His wife, intuitive as ever, left him be, turning her attentions back to their son, who was still trembling as badly now as he had been when Potter dealt the final blow.

Lucius turned to his wife just a moment later, to apologise for his attitude. She had done nothing to deserve being dismissed in that way, she had been a loyal and loving wife through the darkest times imaginable, and he knew that she was only trying to help. But the moment he saw the woman clutch their son's hand, running her hand over his hair as the boy rested his head on her shoulder, the words caught in his throat.

After a few seconds of watching the two together, the man could stand it no longer. He was on his feet and out of the Great Hall before a minute had gone by, leaving Narcissa and Draco huddled together, alone. Neither of them tried to protest or to call him back as they watched him walk away; they knew he would not listen even if they tried.

The wind was fearsome in the Hogwarts courtyard, whipping the hem of his robes around his ankles. It was hardly the calm, peacetime image he would have expected, the night after such a great battle, when everything ought to have resembled a scene from a poetic novel. But life was far more brutal than a book. Lucius knew that better than almost anyone.

"Lucius Malfoy?" The voice was so sudden that Lucius jumped in shock. It was a woman, he could hear that easily, but she somehow sounded a stranger and achingly familiar at the same time. Lucius turned to face her, and his mouth fell open in shock.

The woman's hair was ashen blonde, her eyes a stormy blue, as if someone had taken the image of a princess from a fairy tale and shaded it with pencil. Her figure was lithe as it had been when she was a girl, although three decades had passed since that was true, and she still smiled the same smile as she had done then.

"Mina." Lucius could not help the smile pulling at the corners of his lips. "I wouldn't have thought I would see you here. You weren't part of the battle, were you?"

"I came to identify a body." Mina's smile faded a little, tears creating a watery film over her eyes. "My brother, Corban. He was killed by a couple of teenagers, or so I've heard. All those years of training in the Dark Arts came to nothing."

Lucius nodded in sympathy. He had not gotten along too well with Corban Yaxley, if the truth be told. The man had found him pompous and smug, whilst Lucius considered him to have more pride than his talents merited. But most of all, Corban had always hated him, for abandoning his sister the way he had done.

"Is your wife here?" Mina asked, trying her best to feign interest whilst keeping the hatred from creeping into her tone. It was a title she had never imagined awarding to anyone but herself. Mina had been all set to become Mrs. Malfoy, but Abraxas had refused, claiming even a Yaxley was too low-born for the sole heir to the Malfoy line. No more than a week later, Mina was abandoned with a broken heart and Lucius had announced his engagement to Narcissa Black. They had barely spoken since.

"She's inside, with Draco." Lucius answered. It did occur to him that she would have little clue who Draco actually was, but somehow it did not feel right to clarify the one thing that bound him to Narcissa. "She is rather shaken, as we all are. It has been a rather hellish time."

"And what about you?" the woman asked, reaching out to rest a comforting hand on his arm. That was small gesture was too much for Lucius to take, and tears began to streak down his face, his whole body shuddering with the force of his sobs. All this time, he had been so worried, so guilty, panicking that his own wife and child would suffer for his mistakes, and once the battle was done, it was as if he had disappeared. Narcissa had rushed to Draco's side, her maternal instincts taking over, but she had not thought of him at all. Mina was the first person to ever ask how he was feeling about it all; perhaps she was the only person who cared.

From a window near the great entrance doors, Narcissa stood and watched as her husband collapsed into the embrace of another woman. She did not have to see her face to recognise his comforter, and her heart seemed to sink into her boots. For twenty years, the fear had lived at the back of her mind, and she had an awful feeling that it was finally coming true.

A/N: First new story in a little while, but the response to my poll was overwhelmingly in favour of a HP story, and I've returned to my OTP once more. Hope you enjoyed this first chapter, please review!


	2. Maybe Forgive, Never Forget

Chapter Two

A/N: No reviewers.

It was easy enough to pretend that nothing was wrong in the bustle of the Great Hall at Hogwarts, where a thousand people seemed to go this way and that with each passing minute. The Malfoys had sat on the edge of the action, invisible to all but the most scathing of glances. With the celebrations all around them, it was easy to forget the horrors that had come before the victory.

But at Malfoy Manor, it was not so simple. The very walls seemed to be stained by the Dark Lord's presence, the halls echoing with tortured screams. Over the last two years, the Malfoys' house had become nothing short of a prison, as much for them as for the ones who had been locked in their cellar. One thing was for sure; the house no longer felt like home.

As soon as they crossed the threshold, Draco had mumbled some excuses and headed up the stairs to his bedroom, leaving his parents silent in his wake. It was as if the last candle in the room had been extinguished, and the air between the two turned frozen.

"I'm going upstairs to rest." Lucius stated eventually, when even Draco's receding footsteps had faded away. Narcissa answered with only a heavy sigh, the sound of a woman who had long since been resigned to her fate. The sudden change was not lost on her husband. "What's wrong?"

"Nothing important." Narcissa answered, her tone dripping with mockery. They were the same two words Lucius had given her for months, whenever she begged him to tell her the truth of his feelings. "Go and rest, if you want to."

"Narcissa." Lucius' tone was almost warning, the same icy tone he showed the world. She looked up at him, raising her chin in defiance. He was the first to back down, sighing so deeply he seemed to deflate like a balloon. "Please, tell me. What's the matter?"

"What do you think?" the woman whispered, suddenly more saddened than angry. "The world has fallen apart, Lucius. _We've_ fallen apart. For two years, all I have lived and breathed is fear, wondering if the slightest movement would get me killed; even worse, Draco. Or you. Now it's all over, and everyone is celebrating having their lives back at long last. But I don't feel the same. Everything I lost in the war… it seems as though it's still lost."

Lucius stared at Narcissa as if he was seeing her anew. The woman had seemed so strong throughout the war, the pillar that kept her husband and son from toppling to the ground. She had held them both as they cried, whispering reassurances in their ears and promising that it would all be alright in the end. He had never considered that she might be on the edge of crumbling herself.

"What can I do?" Lucius asked, reaching for her hand. "Tell me what I can do to make it alright again."

No sooner had their fingertips come together than Narcissa turned her shoulder, letting his hand fall limp at his side once more. After the way he had behaved toward her, perhaps the gesture should not have stung him as much as it did.

"There's nothing you can do, Lucius." she sighed. "The damage is done. Everyone's happy and celebrating for now, but sooner or later, all three of us are going to be hauled up in front of the Ministry for our crimes."

Lucius' guilt had welled so high in his heart, he almost felt he might drown in heartache. It was not _their_ crimes, it never had been. He had been the one to follow the Dark Lord wholeheartedly, and he had dragged his wife and son along behind him.

"I'm sorry, Cissa." The affectionate term made Narcissa shiver. The derivative of her name that was Lucius' and Lucius' alone had always been the easiest way for him to end an argument. But this was not just a petty squabble; this was their lives, their son's life, and he had thrown it all away on a chance.

"I know you are." She could not help but make that concession, however angry she might be. After all, Lucius could lie to a great many people, but never to her; she could see in his eyes that his heart was breaking with every beat. "The thing is, I'm not sure that if we were offered a place in the height of the Dark Lord's favour, you would not do the same thing again in a heartbeat. You might regret what happened, but you don't regret your loyalty. And that is what I find more difficult to forgive."

Ironically, for the small gesture that had started this harsh telling of truths, it was Narcissa who set off for the staircase, climbing the steps with the speed and agility of a woman tired far beyond her years. Lucius did not walk after her, knowing that she would push him away if he tried. There was no end of guest bedrooms in the manor, he would certainly find somewhere to sleep; although the man was almost certain that sleep would evade him.

Instead, he made his way into his private study, taking comfort in the familiar solitude of it all. Draco had only entered the room on a handful of occasions, Narcissa perhaps a score of times since she had lived at Malfoy Manor with him; it was the only place where it did not hurt so much to be alone.

' _She's right.'_ Lucius thought, even the voice inside his head sounding like a reluctant sigh. ' _If I thought I could have the riches and glory, I would have done it all over again. I still would. How can I be such a monster, that I would sacrifice my own wife and child for the sake of power?'_

Lucius cast a glance at the picture standing proudly on the edge of his desk. It was a scene from more than a decade ago, when Draco was still a small boy. It had snowed so heavily that only white could be seen for miles around, and the boy had relished playing with something so dormant, and yet so magical. Tucked away safe inside the silver frame, Narcissa spun her son round and round in the snow, both of them laughing joyfully as the flakes danced around them. It was the very image of family, of comfort, of love… how appropriate, then, that Lucius had been hidden behind the lens.

"I can make it right. I'll find a way." he whispered to himself, as if wishing hard enough would make it so. But no matter how many times he whispered it, he could not make himself believe. There was nothing that could be done now, but wait.

A/N: I hope you guys enjoyed this chapter. I love Lucissa with all my heart, but I don't think she could have let what happened in the war go without addressing the fact that they all might be going to prison for something her and Draco didn't want to be part of. More drama to come; please review!


	3. On The Wings Of An Owl

Chapter Three

A/N: Thank you to handansultan, NimbusCentaur and missak27 for being my first reviewers!

The owl arrived the very next morning, carrying three letters bound together with string and bearing the imposing seal of the Ministry of Magic. It had been emblazoned across the front page of _The_ _Daily Prophet_ \- for the few moments Narcissa glimpsed it before her husband cast the paper into the fire- that the Ministry's hunt for Death Eaters would begin in three days' time. Any of Lord Voldemort's followers caught afterwards would face Azkaban without a trial. Had it been the decision of the Wizarding community, perhaps that punishment would have faced anyone, no matter what.

"What are we going to do?" Draco broke the silence, having read his own letter three times over. His parents still had not looked up from their pages, though he imagined they bore the same clinical instructions as his own.

Narcissa let out a slow breath, so quiet that the pursing of her lips was the only clue of what she was doing. Lucius watched her out of the corner of his eye, placing his own letter down on the table. "We do what they ask us to. There is no other way."

"So we throw ourselves to the wolves?" Lucius scoffed. "They will throw the whole lot of us in Azkaban for what we've done."

The room fell silent, the atmosphere thick enough to choke them all where they sat. Draco watched his mother uncomfortably, willing her to stay silent as she had always done before. He had not seen the anguished debate on the steps the previous night, had not heard the heated words or the desperate apologies. He might not have believed them even if he had.

But Narcissa was tired of staying silent, and with a single word she cut as deeply as a dagger. "We?"

Lucius' intake of breath was just as sharp, his fist clenching, as if he meant to strangle thin air. But he remained silent; no defences, no excuses. How could he even try?

"The Ministry will try the three of us together." the man stated, looking more like a man of seventy now. He had tried many times to right his wrongs, but there was nothing to be done. "It may not be right, but it is what they will. So, we will do what they ask us to."

And with those final words, Lucius pushed back his chair and swept from the room, leaving his letter abandoned on the table. His footsteps seemed to echo long after he was gone.

Draco looked up at his mother, and in his face was the little boy who had cowered away from thunderstorms, his eyes pleading with her to make everything alright again. The sight felt like blades scratching at her heart.

"I'll go and speak to him." Narcissa suggested, rising from her own seat. As she left the room, she ran her hand over her son's hair. The familiar gesture made the very corners of his lips curl into a smile. "Everything will be alright, I'm sure of it."

She was not sure, not at all, but the promise was enough to calm him, and so Narcissa set about to make that promise come true.

Lucius should not have been difficult to find. It was a conscious decision of theirs, that whenever they fought with one another, the injured party would retreat to the library; that way, the conflict could be resolved as simply as possible, without allowing time for feelings to fester.

The alarm bells ought to have been set ringing when Narcissa realised he was not there.

It took another half an hour of searching before the woman stumbled upon her husband, brooding at a window along one of the dozens of corridors that made up the manor. There were storm clouds in his eyes, his hands trembling as he watched from the window, as if he expected the Ministry to come for them at any moment.

"I shouldn't have been so harsh, just now." Narcissa conceded, the closest to an apology she was willing to offer. After all, she had spoken nothing but the truth. "I let myself speak without thinking."

"Oh, I doubt that very much." Lucius muttered, his eyes still fixed on the outside world. "You sounded as if you've had plenty of time to consider your words."

"Lucius…" Narcissa began again, but she stopped. She could not find the words to tell her husband he was wrong.

The man scoffed, turning to face her at last. "Just what I thought. I've known you since we were children, Narcissa, you can't hide your feelings from me. You've hated the Death Eaters since the very beginning, you always said so, the few moments I gave you a chance. And now you hate me as well."

"No!" the woman exclaimed. She took a step towards her husband, barely trusting her own footing. She was shaking so much. "No, Lucius, I could never hate you. Ever. Sometimes I've wanted to, I can't pretend I haven't… but I love you more than anything."

Those three words had been rarely spoken within the walls of Malfoy Manor, even by two who had cared so deeply for each other. Lucius was a man of action, had always been, and the trinkets and flamboyant gestures each week had been more than enough proof of his affections. Even during the war, when death had threatened them every day, he had reached for her for comfort. On the few occasions they had put their love into words, it had been remembered, it had been important.

This time, it was not. This time, Lucius stared at Narcissa for just a moment, then turned back to the window, his eyes fixed on the horizon once again. That one callous gesture was like a blow to the face.

Unbidden, Narcissa felt tears burning in her eyes. She fought against them, not wanting to become the broken woman so many would love to believe she was, but still the water welled over, streaking down her cheeks. Unable to hide her emotions any longer, the woman turned on her heel to flee to the safety of her bedroom.

"Narcissa?" She had only taken a few steps before Lucius called after her, his voice carrying along the empty hall. He had seen her run. Narcissa took a moment to wipe her cheeks dry, then turned to face him. His eyes were no more loving than they had been before. "We will go to the Ministry in the morning. There's no point drawing it out."

Narcissa gave no answer; she could not speak around the lump in her throat. Lucius barely saw her nod before she had turned again, and she was out of sight before he could speak.

A/N: Things look to be on a downward spiral for the Malfoys, and the Ministry aren't even involved yet! What will happen when they are? Find out next time! Please review!


	4. The Inevitable

Chapter Four

A/N: Thank you to Beth5572, delia cerrano and Guest for reviewing the last chapter.

As would have been easy to imagine, the British Ministry of Magic was a hive of activity exceeding any other in the world at that moment, as every witch and wizard worked tirelessly to pick the pieces left behind by Lord Voldemort's war. And yet, as the Malfoys stepped foot into the Atrium, those witches and wizards took moments from their busy days to glare at them with disdain. It was not a surprise to any of them, except perhaps Draco; he had been too young to expect how harsh people could be.

"Keep together." Narcissa whispered, as she saw a set of guards heading in their direction. There was far more to her words than the day's events, and Draco clutched tighter to his mother's hand. For a second, she looked up at Lucius. He did not look back at her.

No sooner had the guards reached them than they were pulled apart, Narcissa and Draco each led in one direction and Lucius, restrained at wandpoint by three burly men, in the other. The man kept his eyes trained on Draco, making sure the single guard did not harm his son. He never looked over at Narcissa.

The woman pondered that fact, once she was left alone in an empty room that looked as if it had been half-decorated but never finished. She supposed they must be running low on holding cells, given that half of the Dark Lord's army had been captured or called for after the battle. She was clearly not important enough for high levels of security. Lucius surely was.

"Why is this happening?" she sighed, her voice quiet even to her own ears. Anyone listening in might have thought she was talking about the war, or Voldemort's downfall, but those matters could not be further from her mind.

She had seen it the moment he stepped in the door, the strange way that Lucius seemed to stand around her. Ever since they were Hogwarts students together, his head had tilted the tiniest bit towards her, as if her love was a crutch for him to support himself on. After the battle, he stood ramrod straight and turned his face away. And still Narcissa had no idea of what she had done to cause it.

' _Why should it have been you?'_ the blonde chastised herself. ' _After all that Lucius has done to this family, you have nothing to be ashamed of. You fought to claw your family out of the mess that_ he _created, and yet you are being tried as if you bore the Dark Mark on your own arm. Draco was coerced into the inner circle, you were barely an accomplice. Lucius deserves whatever is coming to him.'_

A shiver ran down her spine. If the words had not been spoken inside her own head, Narcissa would never have believed they were her own. Even after the First Wizarding War, the first round of trials, she had never wished for anything other than for their life to return to the way it had been before. Now was the first time she had wondered; did she truly want that life back?

She was given no time to think any longer on it, as the door to the holding cell swung open. Narcissa expected to see a stern-faced man in a suit- only the Pureblood wizards seemed to wear wizards' robes at the Ministry, and such a wizard would never be allowed to try someone so close to the Dark Lord. When she instead was faced with Kingsley Shacklebolt, the Minister for Magic himself, she had to fight not to allow her jaw to drop.

"Mrs. Malfoy." The man greeted her smoothly, as if she were an acquaintance rather than a wanted criminal. Narcissa only nodded in response, not trusting herself to speak. "I trust you received our letter. You know why you're being held here."

"With the greatest respect, Minister, I would not have needed a letter to know why I was being held here." The woman's voice was quiet, as close to defeated as she would ever allow it to become. "My home was the Dark Lord's headquarters during the war, and my husband and I were responsible for keeping his prisoners. We stood by his side as he marched his army on Hogwarts, and we did nothing to stop him when he killed countless, including Harry Potter himself. I don't think I've missed anything."

"You will not be charged as a Death Eater." Shacklebolt stated. Narcissa blinked, confused. "I think it's important that you know that. You did not bear the Dark Mark during either of the Wizarding Wars, and I won't allow this to become a witch hunt, if you'll pardon the Muggle turn of phrase. However, you did comply with the Dark Lord's instructions willingly, at least for a time, and helped him gain strategic advantages that almost cost us the war. That cannot be ignored."

"I wouldn't expect it to be." For such a terrible situation to be placed in, Narcissa was struck by how fair it all seemed. She had done wrong, so she would be punished. Such an idealistic view of the world. The Minister nodded his head solemnly, and turned his back to leave the room, having said all it seemed he needed to. It was only the sight of his retreating back that brought the strength back to her voice. "Minister!"

"Mrs. Malfoy." Shacklebolt managed to hide the tinge of irritation beneath his voice well. He was clearly a more accomplished politician that the blonde had given him credit for. He stood tall in front of her, waiting for her to speak again, and did not even blink when she stood from her chair and crossed the room to him.

"My son." she stated, then paused. How could she possibly phrase the desperation that clawed at her heart, seemed to rip her very being limb from limb? "He is going to be charged as a Death Eater because he bore the Dark Mark, but it's not right. He didn't have a choice, the Dark Lord was holding me hostage to his agreement. He didn't want any of this…"

"Mrs. Malfoy, I assure you that we are in possession of all the facts in regard to each individual case." The words seemed as though they had been pulled from a script, so clunky and mechanical that Narcissa's heart skipped a beat in despair. But the compassion that seemed to radiate from his eyes as he continued to speak offered a glimmer of hope. "This is a court of law, and all those involved in the Dark Lord's army shall be tried for their crimes. And only for their crimes."

She wanted so desperately to thank him for his reassurances, but by the time her lips had parted, the Minister had left the room, the door swinging shut and lock rattling by the time they closed again. And so she was left alone with nothing but her fears and hopes for company. By morning, her family's fate would be decided. And yet even the Minister's reassurances could not calm the fear brewing in her stomach, knowing that the winning side would be the ones to decide it.

A/N: Sorry it's taken so long to update this, writer's block and long shifts at work have not been my friends here! I quite enjoyed writing Kingsley here, because I get the impression he's much more reasonable than many of the others at the Ministry will be; doesn't bode well, really. Still, I hope you enjoyed and please review!


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